Final Harvest VII: Advent Crops
by char custom
Summary: Cloud inherits his mother's ranch in peaceful Kuponut Valley. AU, strong language.
1. Chapter 1

Final Harvest 7: Advent Crops

Cloud inherits his mother's ranch in peaceful Kuponut Valley. AU, strong language (Gee, thanks Cid).

I'm not sure where the plot came from. I was readin something boring, and I guess my disinterested mind just wandered. Hope you enjoy, or suffer, or whatever rocks your boat.

* * *

"Ya sure picked a shitawful time ta move inta th' valley, kid!"

"I guess, Mr. Highwind," Cloud nodded weakly, eyes screwed up tight, and leaned into the hot torrent of air rushing in from the window.

"Shit, kid. I toldja ta call me Cid!" He produced a rumpled cigarette from somewhere, and thrust it into his mouth in emphasis. Cloud managed to pry open an eye long enough to watch the delivery man fumble abattered Zippo open, but between the winding, bumpy dirt road, the steering wheel, and the stick shifter, the man gave up in a rainbow of curses. He fumbled the Zippo back into wherever it came from, muttering angrily at the road ahead.

"So what's yer story, kid? Ain't shit out here but damn farms'n'what-have-ya," Cid fingered his stubble thoughtfully. "Well, there's th'village bar, run by, uh... shit... that young'un. She's got a real nice pair o', uh... eyes. Big an' round, like. Kinda... kinda like deer eyes, but mebbe not so blank." He guffawed, and gunned the gas, oblivious to his shuddering passenger. "So come on, kid, what brings ya out to the middle o' nowhere?"

Cloud took a deep breath."My Ma had a ranch out here, but... I don't know. She passed away, and that's all I know." Cloud couldn't be more proud of himself. He managed to spew words from his mouth, instead of vomit. "I'll stay at the ranch until I figure things out, at least."

"Well I'll be... Yer Missus Strife's brat! I heard they done sent you off to th' city when you was real little, but I'll be damned." Suddenly Cid threw the beat-up truck into a hard right, and Cloud's seatbelt locked down mercilessly on his pelvis as his body tried to slide across the hot vinyl benchseat.

"HOLY FUCKNUTS!" Cid jammed both feet on the brake, and Cloud, already hunched over, had an expeditious meeting of his forehead and the dashboard. Everything went white; Technicolor stars danced in his eyes.

"Odin's balls, I nearly wasted some goddamn mutt," Cid finally looked over at Cloud. "Hell, kid, you okay? I didn' mean fer ya ta get brained. We're finally at yer Ma's place, but... ya need me ta drive ya over ta th' Doc's place? T'ain't a problem, ya know..."

"Uh... no, I think I'll be fine, Mr. Highwind. Thanks for the ride." Cloud fingered the growing welt on his forehead as he opened the cab door and gingerly slid out.

"Call me Cid, goddamnit!" Cid turned off the engine, pocketing the keys as he walked to meet Cloud at the tailgate. The younger man waited patiently as Cid manhandled the tailgate open, in a horrible shriek of rust and steel.

Cid let out a long whistle as Cloud hefted his broadsword out of the produce-and-packing-crate-filled truckbed and up onto his back with one hand, and grabbing his canvas rucksack with the other.

"That's sum see-ree-yus bis'nus ya got there, kid. Huntin's s'pose t'be not too bad 'round here, if that's yer thing... it's mostly peaceful-like, but... ya oughta talk to the village's hunter 'bout that kinda stuff," Cid took a long drag, exhaling slowly. "Well, I gotta make a buncha stops'n'shit, so I cain't stick around, but if'n ya need anythin', walk right up that road ta find th' general store. Feller name o' Kinsey... no... Tinsel? Shit, Whateverisname that runs th' store, feller can answer any questions ya might run across. I think he's there most ev'ry day'a th' week, but fuck if I know."

He climbed back into the driver's seat, taking a moment to finally light up the cigarette still clenched between his teeth, before slamming the door shut.

Cloud watched in grateful silence, on the solid earth, as Cid fought the truck; the engine whinnying like a dying horse, before turning over into a a lively, deafening roar.

Cid leaned out the window, eyeing Cloud carefully from spikey blond head to brown booted toe as if they'd just now met.

"Listen up, kid. I reckon I mentioned earlier... that there's a special kind o' trouble in the valley, yeah? If them prissy cityfolk developer asshats come 'round ta harass ya, run an' get that Kensington guy, th' bar owner, or one o' them carpenter fellers to get rid o'them, 'till ya get yer bearings, at least." Cid looked off into the distance, a grimace snaking across his face. "Well, I'll leave ya to it, kid. Good luck!"

"Thank you, Mr. Highwind," the roar of the truck drowned out Cloud's call, as it leapt away. Cloud saw the foul-mouthed driver lean his head out the window just as he made the turn back onto the main country road.

"CALL ME CID, GODDAMNIT!"

When the thunder of Cid's truck faded away, Cloud turned to the ranch.

He checked out every building and bit of rickety fencing. Everything was locked, from the small barn featuring a tired, sagging roof, to the tiny weathered chicken coop. It went unsaid that the small farmhouse was also locked. He searched under the faded straw doormat, and under the conspicuous pile of stones by the door, but found no key. Cloud sighed, and sat on the tiny concrete stoop. His head hung, cradled in his hands.

"Minerva, Ma, what am I supposed to do?"

She'd died without warning; her recent letters had been the same as always, and the subsequent police investigation and autopsy had provided a less than satisfying explanation: unknown cause of death.

He'd drifted apart from her over the years, but she was all the family he'd had left after Dad died.

A tiny wet tongue was lapping at his hands, cool in the late spring heat.

Cloud peeled his hands from his face, to see a muddy, burr-covered beagle pup, all dangly velvet ears, big watery eyes, and long, gangly tail thumping in the dusty dirt.

He reached down, and the puppy wriggled happily under the gentle stroking.

"Well, little guy, I guess I better get over to that general store, or we'll both be roughing it tonight."

* * *

To be continued (?!)


	2. Chapter 2

Final Harvest 7: Advent Crops

Cloud inherits his mother's ranch in peaceful Kuponut Valley. AU, might be adulty-stuffs.

* * *

Cloud trudged down the dusty road, distancing himself carefully between the left tire rut and the tall, grassy weeds edging the dirt. Minerva only knew if everyone in Kuponut Valley drove like a maniac. He would take no chances.

The stray beagle puppy would have to fend for himself, however. Cloud had tried carrying him, but between the pitiful whining, squirming, and the downright dirtiness of the dog... Cloud gave up. Every few feet, the pup plunged his face in the weeds, in the dirt, in a hole. Every time, he found only a noseful of dust and dirt, and sometimes cobwebs, and then startled himself with a gut-wrenching sneeze, fleeing to mill in fright around Cloud's feet.

Not far down the road from his mother's ranch, a side road had snaked off to the left, disappearing between fat tree trunks and dense foliage. But Cloud passed it up, and twenty minutes later, came to a legitimate intersection... as legitimate as two neglected dirt roads haphazardly laying over the same spot in the middle of the boonies can possibly be.

Cloud studied the lone building sitting on the northeastern corner. Every bit of it was bright, violently new timber, except the weathered, ash-smeared shop sign hanging in the storefront eaves, that proudly proclaimed, 'GENERAL'S STORE'. A huge oak tree would have shaded half the building, if half of the tree wasn't denuded and scorched a streaky black.

Well, whatever.

He scooped up the heat-wilted puppy, and stepped through the open shop door.

Inside was relatively cool, despite the sun streaming through every window. Several rows of shelving held neat rows of sundry goods; from toothpaste, to socks, to table sugar and canned fruit. There were stacks of mail order catalogs, and a rack of certain subscription magazines at the register, Shinra Science Monthly and Junon Geographic notwithstanding.

There was also a little silvery, scuffed service bell. Cloud rang it.

Nothing happened. He waited.

And waited.

And waited some more.

Revitalized by the cool air, the puppy began wriggling again, gnawing at Cloud's glove.

Cloud opened his free hand, spread-eagle, and slammed the service bell repeatedly.

A young man in a battered shop apron and head bandana, swooped out from the stockroom door behind the register counter, hands white with strain, as he clutched at a three foot high pile of brown butcher paper wrapped boxes. He slowly slid the entire pile onto the counter.

Cloud watched warily as the man took off his sunglasses, wiped his forehead free of sweat, and replaced the glasses. He turned to Cloud and drew in a deep breath.

"Welcome to the General's General Store, fine sir! I'm your man, Kunsel, and I can help with everything from keysmithing, to horseshoeing, and if you can't find it in here today, you'll find it here tomorrow! Guaranteed!" He stood proudly, chest puffed out, fists on hips.

Cloud stared. Was this guy retarded? Or is it the water?

Who the hell wears sunglasses indoors?

It's got to be the water. You could avoid water, or purify it. Boiling, filtering...

But if it's a disease... No. Let's not think about that.

"Uh, well... My name is Strife. Cloud Strife. Found out my Ma passed away last week, and I came from Midgar to deal with her ranch."

Kunsel gave him a long look. Or, he pointed his face at Cloud. Can't be sure with glasses that dark.

"Well... damn. You got some ID or proof of relation or something? Death certificate? Missus Strife left a copy of her keys with me, but I can't just give it some Joe Blow."

What the...? Cloud reached for his wallet, but stopped at the sound of Kunsel's chuckling.

"I'm just messing with you, man. There's no way you couldn't be related, what with that hair and all," Kunsel fished around in his apron pockets. "I know it's... in here... somewhere..." He'd gone through every pocket, until, with a mumbled "Ah-ha!" he thrust his hand into a pants pocket instead, and produced a small keyring of slightly worn keys.

He tossed the keys to Cloud, who nearly fumbled his one-handed catch as a huge, soft, fleshy, warm, SOMETHING pressed into his back.

"Well aren't you just my favorite size!" A friendly female voice giggled into Cloud's ear.

Cloud made a startled hop forward. The puppy was still trying to go all Shawshank Redemption, legs and whippy tail flailing about.

"Tifa, get your monstrous rack off the poor guy. He's Missus Strife's kid from the city, just came by to pick up the ranch keys." Kunsel frowned, arms crossed, even as Cloud felt the uncomfortable pressure retreat from contact.

"Well sorry, Mr. Big Shot." With a firm grip on Cloud's shoulder, she suddenly spun him around, catching his free hand in her free hand, pumping it in a vigorous handshake.

"Well, I'm Tifa Lockhart, single white female, seeking a single male... Or several, if they're all handsome and self-cleaning!" Not even her 'monstrous rack' could peel Cloud's eyes from her heart shaped face. She had cute, pouty features set in fair, flushed skin, topped off by round, chocolatey-russet eyes. She flipped a lock of her dark, but sun-browned, hair over a shoulder and struck a pose for Cloud... a pose which made his pants go tight, forcing him to turn his flushed face back to Kunsel. The shopkeeper simply snorted and began checking his stack of packages against a list.

"Well, Cloud, if you're interested in working the ranch, you can buy animals and feed at the Shinra Ranch, and if you want to try your hand at just working the land, old man Hojo carries a variety of-"

"Ugh, don't tell him that!" Tifa cried out. She grabbed Cloud and pulled him in close. "Look, Cloud, old man Hojo is a creeper. He's oily. He smells. His shop smells. His HOUSE smells. Literally. Stay away from him."

"Uh..."

"Your reasoning is illogical, Miss Lockhart."

Cloud craned his head to see the source of the velvety baritone, arm still locked in Tifa's steely grip.

The newcomer strode past Cloud and Tifa directly to the counter, booted footsteps thudding gently. The pale (no, pasty, thought Cloud) man towered a full head above Cloud and Tifa, thigh-length, silvery hair tied back at the nape in a neat pony tail. He wore a shop apron identical to Kunsel's, over black cargo pants and a black button down shirt, rolled up at the elbows. Strangely, to Cloud at least, the man also wore a pair of slightly scuffed mythril cuff bracelets over his black work gloves.

"I believe Highwind delivered several parcels."

Kunsel absently indicated the pile of packages on the counter, as he finished scribbling on his checklist. He turned it, handing his pen to the taller man, who promptly signed and returned the pen.

"General, don't you keep a sustenance garden?" Kunsel produced a roll of twine from a pocket, and began tying the packages together.

"Correct."

"So... could you give him some starter seeds and cuttings, if you have them to spare? I know a lot of the seed and stuff just goes to waste at your place, anyway." Kunsel pushed the now tied-together pile towards 'the General'. "Tifa here thinks Professor McCreepypants only carries trash like marlboro pods and ho-chu bulbs. " He jerked a thumb rudely at Tifa. She blew a hard raspberry back.

The General turned to Cloud. Acid green, unblinking, eyes studied the blond.

"I... understand you to be Mrs. Strife's son."

"Probably because I am. Her son. That is." Cloud fixed his eyes on the General's rimless glasses. What the hell was in the water, for a man to have crazy alien eyes like that? Uranium 238? Thorium? Raw mako? Shiva's sweet teats...

"I see. Your mother made the finest five alarm dragon chili the Planet will ever see. Her passing lessens the human race." The General effortlessly hefted the pile of packages with one arm. "As to Kunsel's assumption of your interest in small-scale agriculture, arrive at my farm gates no later than 0500, tomorrow morning. Bring a barrow if possible," he waved absently at Kunsel. "Good day."

The General strode out the front door. Tifa, Kunsel, and Cloud stood in awkward silence, rooted in place, until the General had long disappeared from sight.

"... Please tell me that wasn't THE GENERAL SEPHIROTH." The puppy yelped; Cloud's grip had unconsciously constricted the poor thing bit by bit.

"'That wasn't General Sephiroth.'" Tifa said in a silly voice, childishly using her fingers to imitate the General's glasses.

"Ignore her, Cloud. I'll lend you a barrow to take with you tomorrow. Just head down the southeast road there; the General's Starfall Farm is at the end of it. And... try not to fawn, or fanboy at him. The General really hates that." Kunsel sighed and gestured vaguely in the direction of the road. "And you better leave that puppy at the ranch. One of the General's brothers has a weird fear of dogs. Small dogs."

Cloud considered this in silence.

"Well... thanks, Kunsel. By the way, do you sell water filters?"

* * *

To be continued (?!)

A/N: Haha, Kunsel swooped.

I'd like to thank Thunder of Friendship for that first review. Really. And the 50 people who read the first chapter within the first day or two of posting. And the two who read it twice.


	3. Chapter 3

Final Harvest 7: Advent Crops

Cloud inherits his mother's ranch in peaceful Kuponut Valley. AU, might be adulty-stuffs.

* * *

The pea soup morning fog shrouded everything except the black iron Starfall Farm gates. Cloud looked around uneasily; the fog was damp, the air was teeth chatteringly chilly (good job not bringing a real jacket, bucko), and even the faintest sounds simply died in the mist.

His eye-aching tiredness wasn't much help. A kind of thorough, heavy-limbed exhaustion, that causes your dried out eyelids to scrape against your dried out eyeballs with every blink. It wasn't the kind of exhaustion that made you want to sleep. You just wanted to stop moving... like zero Kelvin, atomic-level halting of movement.

The bottom line was, Cloud had chosen his mother's couch, over her bed. Even taking a blanket or the chocobo down duvet from the bed just felt wrong. He could feel her in the house, see her out of the corner of his eye, just nagging him to tell her about the cute girls he'd met in the city, to visit more often, to take the trash out, to eat one more bowl of stew. He'd just given up trying to sleep around one or two in the morning, and lay buried in the blankets from the closet, playing pathetically short rounds of Snake on his cellphone to kill time until morning.

"Uh... Mr. Strife?"

Cloud jumped. Or his body tried to. He turned to the source of the voice, just past the Starfall gates, only to see a gangly teenager slightly taller than himself, with the same silvery hair as the General, but chin-length and shaggy, held neatly out of his face by a... girly squiggle headband, of all things. Like his brother, he also wore a work apron, black gloves, and a black button-down, sleeves rolled at the elbow. But in place of cargo pants neatly tucked into tall combat boots, this kid had cargo shorts, socks of mismatched height, and sloppily half-laced work boots.

Cloud must have been staring. The silver-haired teen grimaced, as he craned his neck this way and that, to better see the blond's face.

"Just um... call me Cloud," Cloud shook the other's hand nervously.

"Name's Kadaj."

The kid waved a hand at Cloud dismissively. "And don't worry about Brother. He's already busy in the greenhouses, but, regardless, I'm glad you're here early." He eyed Cloud head to toe, to head again.

"You know... you're a bit younger than I'd expected... but ah... would you happen to have any other family in the valley?"

Cloud frowned. He'd only known his Ma and Dad, and a white-haired grandfather, long dead, the memory faded to a shadow and a vague warmth by time.

"Not... that I know of. Why do you ask?"

"Hmm... no reason," Kadaj shrugged, then shooed Cloud and the wheelbarrow through the gates.

They hadn't gone far, when a long, opaque-paned greenhouse loomed out of the grey mists.

"Is the General working in there?"

Kadaj snorted, "Nah, Brother's in another greenhouse. They're all full of his boring plant stuff. Forget about His Highness so I can take you on the Grand Starfall Farm Tour!"

The 'Grand Starfall Farm Tour' was just that. A neat dirt path led past composting piles under an open shed, a small pond complete with sleepy brown ducks, a small fenced pasture, a little chicken coop, a bright yellow rabbit hutch, and Kadaj's own llamas ("This is Dior and this... is Justinia. Aren't they just precious?" "... Interesting male and female names." "How the hell should I know what sex they are? They're so cute, who gives a damn anyway?!"). As they rounded the corner in the path, Kadaj eventually flapped a long fingered hand at the greenhouses, saying there were six total, and 100% boringsauce, just as they arrived at the sustenance garden butted up against a modest two-story farmhouse.

"Yazu and me are scheduled to thin out the seedlings and stuff today, so you might as well get some practice in, eh?" Kadaj parked the barrow for him at the edge of the garden, then pulled a pair of work gloves out of his back pocket and tossed them at Cloud.

Kadaj went straight to the water pump at the edge of the garden, thrusting one of the watering cans into Cloud's gloved hands. He watched in a pregnant silence as Kadaj's skinny arms flapped the pump handle up and down, taking twice as long to fill a watering can that was left positioned to catch maybe half the water pouring out of the pump.

The sun slowly broke through the morning mists as Cloud learned some of the 'finer points' of gardening... specifically, the art of not-killing-everything-that-isn't-a-weed. Kadaj prattled aimlessly, telling Cloud that plant was a climber, this one fruits for this long, that one grows over a lattice over the watering troughs, and this one just needs a cylinder of chicken wire around it. Some plants need more water, some less, and please, don't forget about sun exposure, and to check for those giant disgusting caterpillars the size of a man's thumb.

Eventually, another silver-haired teen emerged from the farmhouse's front door. Though his height and clothing were almost carbon copy of the General, this teen was somewhat slimmer, his hair somewhat shorter, and his button-down was short-sleeve and dark grey. He stretched lazily, arms reaching high into the air, then looked over to the garden when he noticed Kadaj's loud, mindless chatter.

He came closer, and upon seeing Cloud working in the dirt, frowed at Kadaj.

"Brother would be displeased to see chores foisted onto a guest," the taller teen beckoned for Cloud to follow him, walking back to the farmhouse.

He led Cloud through the front door, into an enclosed porch area. He promptly pulled a pile of burlap and twine from a closet, and pushed it into Cloud's arms, then opened a battered old refrigerator adjacent and started tossing bags of seeds from the various shelves and drawers in the refrigerator, straight into Cloud's arms. Eventually, satisfied, the taller teen closed the fridge, and opened the porch door, nodding for Cloud to return to the garden.

The three of them knelt in the dirt, each with a bucket at their sides, carefully (or not so carefully) thinning out the young plants as they moved down the rows, pulling out weeds.

"This one, Cloud."

"Now that one."

"No, the other one."

"Planet, Kadaj, don't be so rough!"

"Bahamut's balls, Yazu! You're such a nag!" Kadaj threw his hands up, dirt flying.

Yazu simply shook his head, and calmly went back to weeding. After a few minutes, he turned to Cloud, curious.

"So... Cloud. Brother said you had a dog with you yesterday. A puppy?"

"Yeah, Mr. Highwind almost ran it over when he dropped me off at my Ma's ranch yesterday," Cloud nodded, taking a moment to stretch his back a bit. "He seemed to think it was a stray, but... does it belong to someone?"

"Ugh, you came here in old Cid's motorized deathtrap? You're lucky to be alive," Kadaj grimaced, tossing a handful of weeds into his bucket.

Yazu rolled his eyes. "Peanut gallery aside, the answer is yes, and no, Cloud."

"Huh?"

"I believe your mother found the dog abandoned not two weeks ago," Yazu shrugged, but continued. "I don't what she named it though, if she ever did." He deftly pinched another weedling from the dirt, and neatly dropped it into his bucket.

"Well, whatever it's called, you should have brought it today. Loz is totally allergic to dogs," Kadaj grinned evilly.

"Don't be stupid Kadaj. It's just irrational fear. Even Brother said so."

"That wasn't until after that time he was shrieking in the middle of Tifa's bar... and then that rooster... ha ha ha! Good times," Kadaj chuckled, sloppily tossing his handful of weeds at Yazu's bucket. Except it was too high, and slapped Yazu on the cheek, sliding off into the dirt.

"Wow," Yazu wiped the dirt from his face with the back of a gloved hand. "Thanks. Really."

An awkward silence settled over them, before Cloud artlessly cleared his throat.

"So, uh... what's with the general store?"

"Do you mean the 'General's Store'?" Yazu's eyebrow slowly arched up.

Kadaj sniggered.

"Or do you mean Kunsel?"

Cloud paused, thoughtful. "Well... both I guess."

"Fair enough," Yazu began wrapping some of the larger seedlings with the burlap and twine. "Apparently Kunsel was in the service, under Brother's command... during the War and all that. And... according to Brother... Kunsel followed him out to Kuponut Valley when he retired."

Kadaj cut in, "Brother told us Kunsel chose the store's name, just to get his stoat."

"Goat."

"What? Where?" Kadaj;s body shot upright, head whipping around frantically.

"Get his _goat_... not stoat. Planet, who even says stoat? A normal person would simply say 'weasel'." Yazu frowned at the dirt and the seedlings.

Nonplussed, Kadaj knelt again, and continued. "Well, goat, stoat, whatever. At any rate, Kunsel thought it was a real witty name, seeing as how brother was a six star general and... yeah."

"Well, you have to admit, it has a bit of a ring of truth now," satisfied with his handiwork, Yazu began loading the wrapped seedling into Cloud's barrow.

"Hmm... I guess."

"Huh?"

"You went by the general store yesterday, right?" Cloud nodded, to Kadaj's satisfaction. "Well, the place was burned down the other week. Brother helped Kunsel finance rebuilding the place... it turned out that Kunsel's dopey shop sign was all that was left of the place. It's really too bad that the old oak got toasted. Kunsel's really gonna roast, come summer."

Yazu picked up his weed bucket, and dumped it into a bin by the water pump. "The Mideelian police said it was accidental fire."

"Pshh... 'accident' my ass. Everyone but those rent-a-cops knows it was arson. We all know who did it, even though in the valley, not even our old man is loopy enough to just burn a place down... granted he is one pancake short of a stack." Kadaj followed Yazu's lead, picking up his and Cloud's buckets, emptying both of them into the bin. "Let's forget about all that, Yazu. I don't want to ruin the day talking about greasy, air-stealing, non-persons."

As Kadaj and Yazu busied themselves putting away the tools, Sephiroth emerged from the door of the nearest greenhouse, clothed identically to the previous day, excepting the pockmarks on the apron, and the single smudge of dirt on one cheek. Maybe he had a whole closet, filled with identical sets of the same clothing. Cloud could only wonder. That's stalker territory, after all.

The older man nodded to the three. He approached the barrow, leaning slightly to visually inspect the chosen plants. Pleased with what he saw, he raised his unblinking gaze to Cloud.

"Mrs. Strife kept a similarly sized garden near her home... Do you know if her farm and garden tools are still on-premises?"

"Well, uh... sir... the tool shed seemed in order when I was finally able to check around the ranch. Well, I wouldn't really know if anything was missing, so..." Cloud trailed off.

"There is no need to address me formally, Cloud. Just... 'Sephiroth' will do," the older man nodded sagely, but a smirk tugged at one corner of his mouth.

Yazu just sighed. "Brother, why not help him out? Your work is all caught up right now, anyway. Everything else is just chores even Kadaj can't botch."

"Hey!" yelped the shorter teen, arms crossed and green eyes glaring.

"Hmm... this is true," Sephiroth looked off into the distant treeline. "Well, I may have time later this week... if our new neighbor wishes for me to inspect his mother's ranch for... irregularities."

Cloud choked momentarily, on the mental image of the legendary general in dress uniform, running a white-glove test on sloe-eyed, cud-chewing cows, inspecting the coloration of puffy chickens mindlessly scratching in the grass, intently checking every section of an old wooden fence for structural integrity. Not that he'd ever seen a photo of General Sephiroth in conventional military dress, and also disregarding the fact that Cloud had zero cows and chickens.

"I would appreciate it si-... Sephiroth. Ma and Dad sent me away when I was young so... I don't have a much of a clue about... farm... stuff... or how it... goes." Cloud fought the blood trying to rise into his face. How embarrassing. Even if it _was_ true. Everything he knew about farms, came from video games and television. Well, Fantasy Harvest: Melody Friends _did _top every game chart last year. The googly-eyes ponies and fluffy sheepies just made your heart sieze up and die.

Sephiroth's face struggled to suppress a smirk. "It is... simple enough. The foundation of agriculture is, frankly, the earth itself," he turned to Yazu. "Be sure to give Cloud some compost before he takes his leave, as we are uncertain as to the state of the soil in Mrs. Strife's garden."

Yazu nodded in understanding, so Sephiroth started back towards the greenhouses, "Then, Cloud, if you will excuse me-"

But Sephiroth had stopped in his tracks a few steps away. After a moment, he looked over his shoulder at the three teens.

"Kadaj... Yazu..." The two in question perked up. "If your brother does not muck out the rabbit run, it will be Junonian rabbit roast for dinner," Sephiroth's visible eye flared, then he stalked off, disappearing behind the closing snap of a glass door.

They stood in silence, until Kadaj broke out in a fit of giggles. Yazu looked at him curiously, but his shorter brother waved him off.

"Go on ahead with Cloud, Yazu. I'll find a way to hold the rest of the weeds at bay with my sexy, superhuman weeding skills." Kadaj flexed his scrawny arms, then picked up his weeding bucket and went back to work among the rows of sprouting plants, giggling nonstop (what kind of guy giggles by himself at the drop of a hat? Relief washed over Cloud at the memory of yesterday's water filter purchase).

As Cloud wheeled the barrow to a halt beside the composting piles, he turned to Yazu.

"What on Gaia was that all about?"

"Well..." Yazu chuckled softly to the side. "Brother's senses are... keener... than the average human. Well, all of us are like that, really. And Loz... to sum it up, he produced some rather subpar engineering in the rabbit run and hutch. Brother has to suffer it every trip between the farmhouse and the greenhouses," Yazu pointed out the path. "What we are laughing at... heh... well, Brother's face wrinkles up like a dual horn when he smells that rabbity mess. His face even gets a bit red. Well, sometimes a lot of red..."

Yazu shook his head, mirthful, as he eased the burlap sacks and remaining twine out of the barrow. He took a shovel down from a wall hook in the open-design shed nearby, and handed the lot to Cloud.

"Fill up about two sacks. If you need more, we always have extra to spare," Yazu looked around furtively as Cloud moved off to start on his task. "Just uh... when you're done, continue on back to the main gate. I'll... uh... meet you there." With that, Yazu simply bolted off.

Not being a local water drinker, Cloud just shrugged and started shoveling the rich, crumbly compost.

Some minutes later, Cloud had barely arrived at the Starfall gates, when a winded Yazu ran towards him, clutching a small sack, and a battered cardboard box, 'Banora White' in bold red letters on every side.

Yazu thrust the box into Cloud's arms, and dumped the sack on top, gasping for breath. Cloud looked at him, bewildered, when Yazu hissed at him.

"If Brother or anyone else asks, they came from the Shinra's place."

Cloud opened his mouth. Instead of speaking, his lips just gawped, open and shut, like a dying fish, when a quiet peeping began inside the apple box. He looked at Yazu again, who blankly eyed the dirt at his feet.

"On a farm... the animals are eaten. We do it all the time... but... well... it's hard, when you raise them yourself, you know?" Yazu shuffled a bit, dust puffing up lazily around his boots.

Cloud contemplated the peeping for a minute, then looked back up at the other teen.

"So... if I happened to have some... chickens? How would I care for them?"

Yazu's eyes flashed, behind the long silvery fringe. "It's pretty easy... if you happened to have adolescent chickens, not chicks, then they really just need clean bedding, and fresh food and water," he grinned shyly. "Oh! And... if it's nice and sunny out, let them out a bit, they'll like it. Uh... if you had them. Chickens. If you had chickens... which you totally don't. Do you, uh... need me to escort you back to the main road?"

At that exact moment, a very tall, shirtless teen emerged from the treeline. Leaves and tiny twigs jutting out from his short, silvery hair, and a huge bundle of firewood slung over his shoulders, wound about sloppily in rope.

"Dear Minerva. It's Loz," Yazu bodily pushed Cloud towards the road. "You better leave before he gets here..."

Loz had already spotted his brother and the blond guest. He was shouting at the top of his lungs, waving his arms and galloping crazily across the distance between them.

But Loz suddenly halted in the tall, wild grass, slack-jawed and petrified.

A high pitched howling and low thumping was barreling down the dirt path towards them from the main road.

Cloud squinted, and that's when he saw it.

It was the beagle puppy, slathered in dust, and trailing ten feet of chewed-off rope, despite the last night's (disastrous) bathing, and subsequent tethering to a stake in the dirt.

The puppy was fixated on Cloud, but when he saw the tall, looming, lumber-laden Loz, he bared his fangs, keening as he yawed towards the terrified teen.

In response, Loz shrieked, high and clear, bits of firewood scattering as he fell right on his ass. Bits of wood and kindling tumbled to the ground as he scrambled on all fours, limbs flailing as he clumsily fled towards the farmhouse.

Luckily for Loz, he had very long legs, and the puppy had very, very short legs, so he was already out of sight when the beagle pup finally rocketed past Cloud.

Unfazed, Cloud stomped on the trailing rope. The puppy rubberbanded at the other end, baying as he thrashed about in the dirt.

He turned his gaze over to Yazu, who was choking with laughter, face beet red.

"Oh, Cloud..." Yazu wiped away some tears. "It might be time to invest in a length of chain from Kunsel."

Cloud chortled as the puppy walked over, tongue lolling, and tail wagging so hard, that his little beagle butt was wagging too.

"Well, Dog, let's get to it."

* * *

1. Yazoo is 'Yazu'. Yazoo, Kadaj, and Loz always sounded to me like Kazoo and Lozenge. Just saying.

2. As Luna Goddess of night pointed out, there are some lateral similarities to Harvest Moon. Sorry if you are looking for it, but there isn't going to be any of that blue feather crap going down. Cloud doesn't have time for that shit!

3. Rabbits really can get stinky. They are super cute, quiet, affectionate... but they produce some really, really concentrated, really stinky urine (the poo is simple to take care of... disregarding cecal pellets they don't bother to eat... sigh). My own rabbit is litter-trained, so for me, it's a pretty simple to just dump out the litter box every other day.

4. Grand horns in Crisis Core look nothing like they do in FFVII. CC uses the same model for both grand horns and dual horns, but in FFVII, a grand horn is more bipedal with big ham fists, while the dual horn looks more akin to the CC dual-slash-grand horn model. I don't think you even care, even though you read all the way down here... ha ha.

5. Haha, tall grass.

6. I hope this chapter wasn't too boring. It seems really wordy to me. But in the great words of my parents' generation, "Whatever, man."


End file.
